The Golden One
by JakeCrown
Summary: Imagine a crazy American stoner in the body of a spoiled rich little UK arse named Malfoy with reality altering powers. Add drugs, alcohol, and, absent moral fiber. Ready, Set, Action!
1. Chapter 1

**The Golden One **

2013 Earth, United States of America, Texas, San Marcos, Gary Job Corps Center.

"I will face my fears, I will let them pass through me, when the fear is gone, only I will remain." I told the cocky, young New York "rapper and lyricist" .

"Man, thats deep. Did you write that?" he asked.

I looked at the black kid in front of me. Sitting in the classroom chair, snap-back hat on sideways, completely honest.

"Yes" I lied. Trying to fight back snickers.

Gary Job Corps, where no one has ever heard of Frank Herbert.

I have been a student there for the last 6 months. It took half of that time to give up trying to educate my fellow students about the evils of fractional reserve banking and how the powers that control the world, emanate, not from what the news says, but, the bankers.

Now though, I used a little bit of my free-time talking 18 year old girls out of their panties and the rest trying to deny the existence of my life through weed.

I was successful at both.

\- -

"RIIIIIIIIIING"

Class out!

Hell-ya!

I streamed out the door with my fellow bits of human waste.

I put my earbuds in as soon as I was out the door. The sweet sounds of Freddy Mercury singing about prostitutes with laser-beams could have instantly changed my mood on any other day.

Today though, was a true bitch.

I woke up in my dorm, to one of my roommates trying to break my locker, full of cigarettes, cash, and snacks open with a shaved key.

So I have busted up knuckles now...

I get a breakup text from my 17 year old girlfriends' friend's phone telling me that she is breaking up with me because I won't take her virginity until next week when she turns 18.

I need to stop dating teens. At 23 though, its just too much fun. Except when it backfires. The disrespect though had me steaming. Broken up with via text? That just hurt my feelings... Almost.

I walked to the cafeteria, with my head down and my ears blasting with music.

One foot on the street and the feeling of flying.

Why am I lying next to my foot?

Where did my legs go?

Blackness.

-

"Young Master needs to wake up"

"mmh. Humble mumble shin... Dipshit" I muttered. Who was trying to wake me before my alarm? I haven't sold drugs to anyone from my room. Like hell I'd sell to anyone that tried to wake me up to buy some green.

"What the fuck do you want?" I demanded in my squeaky childish morning voice from under the covers.

Squeaky childish morning voice? I hadn't had one of those in a few years.

What the fuck was in my sac yesterday?

Why didn't I remember going to bed?

Must have been some good shit.

I looked at the bulging watery eyes above me and blinked.

They blinked back.

"Aaaaagh" I screamed into my pillow.

"Young Master must wake up and get dressed or miss his first day of school" prodded the Yoda knock-off.

"I'm awake already" I groaned from under the covers that I had once again pulled over my head. On the ceiling of this massive room was a mirror and from the mirror I knew what I looked like. It was a very familiar face. A face I had seen look embarrassed and humiliated many times and laughed at it's misery.

A spoiled little blond shit who gets everything he wants and fabulous rewards for doing nothing.

I hated people like that.

Now I was one...

I am in a fucking Harry Potter Character's Body!

As I started to get dressed in the 'clothes' laid out on top of a very expensive and antique drawers, I spotted myself in an overly decorated mirror again. A soft face with high cheek bones soft with baby-fat. Expensive silk pajamas, silk slippers, silk sheets on an enormous four poster bed. The expression on the face in the mirror looked like someone just told that face that he was going to be tortured for a thousand years and that it's puppy just got ran-over.

I looked at the face again and saw its frown slowly turn into a familiar smirk as if the face had just watched Woodrow Wilson get eaten by an orc.

Going through my head were thoughts that only someone who from my world must be considered insane. Considering my monthly acid trip was scheduled last week, I was pretty sure that I wasn't imagining this.

I looked in the mirror one last time.

"At least I'm not half-black anymore" I said in a very American accent.

"Yes, Father" I repeated.

Staring into the eyebrows of my "father" as I practiced my posh accent to give my affirmation in the breaks in my 'father's' droning about pureblood responsibility and upholding the Malfoy name.

"Here is your permission slip for Hogsmeade village visits and and your allowance for this quarter, good-bye." he finished abruptly and turned on the spot and vanished with a 'crack'. I hadn't even got the chance to give another fake accent "Yes, Father" before he shoved a weightless bulging bag into my hand and disappeared.

Crabbe and Goyle had already taken my trunk and taken it to an empty compartment as soon as I had arrived at the platform. They did it without me telling them to first.

They were looking to be good servants so far.

"Some asshole seventh year hit me with a hex to give me an American accent" I lied to my 'servants' as I threw the compartment door open with a bang. "Whas' an American?" Goyle asked Crabbe with a confused look on his face. "Someone from the colonies" I answered before Crabbe could show off both of his braincells.

"Righ" nodded Goyle.

"Souns funny" grunted Crabbe.

Better to end the conversation here.

"Nippy" I called into the air. Summoning the house-elf that had awoken me an hour ago. Her thin pillow-case gave away why the thin little green and brown skinned creature was called Nippy. A pillowcase for clothes in a climate like Britain's would make any female nippy.

"Did you find the items?" I asked the house-elf.

"Nippy has found 6 clear muggle bags of green herbs with seeds and a light skunk scent and 12 clear muggle bags without seeds and a strong skunk scent as well as 5 large strange glass tubes and 28 fake muggle stone and metal contraptions called lighters. Nippy also found 6 small bags of white powder and one large one as well as 1 bag of light blue crystals. Nippy has placed them in the second compartment of your trunk with the 'revolva' and shells." she squeaked out very quickly with worried watery eyes.

"Good job Nippy, go give yourself a reward." Istated. After sending her through various random flats in the poorer sections of London in search of a lighter, bong, and how to find a druggies stash. With instructions on what exactly to take and look for, I had expected her to have a harder time finding the stuff.

Crabbe and Goyle stared at me like I had grown a fifth head, with mouths agape. Goyle, because thats just how he rolls. Crabbe, because I just showed extremely out of character behavior to a house-elf. They were ignored.

I guess finding a few criminals in any large city isn't that hard. Especially for teleporting midget magical cleaning ninjas.

"May Nippy inquire what a reward is Young Master?" she asked cringing.

What kind of freaks are these wizards to abuse such wonderful weed finding angels?

"The opposite of a punishment" I explained in a gentle tone.

"Nippy will shut her ears in the cool-box doors instead of the oven ones right away sir." She gasped out quickly and popped away with a bow.

I joined Crabbe and Goyle with staring stupidly at the spot where she had vanished.

Crazy little masochists would fit right in with a drunken BDSM party.

The train started pulling out of the station.

After flipping the second latch on my four compartment trunk, I peeked in with grin. Being a Texan, I immediately loaded the 38. snub nose from one of the many boxes of bullets and pocketed it on the inside of my silk robe. I took out a sack of hydroponic green and a three foot bong, along with a lighter and shut the trunk before sitting down next directly across from Crabbe.

I loaded a bowl and looked at the two of them. A serious expression on my face as my well practiced-yet-new fingers broke up a particularly fat nug and loaded it. As I looked from one stupid boy to the other, and the knowledge that I was stuck in this compartment with them for the next 8 hours, I realized what question needed to be asked.

"Have either of you ever heard of hot-boxing?"

**2 Hours later**

"Anything off the -cough- sweet trolley dears?" asked a sweet lady with a cart full of candy as she opened the compartment door. A large billow of smoke blew into her face as the door opened.

"Five of everything please" I said. Paying her did not put a dent in my 'allowance'.

I had never been so hungry. Considering that Crabbe and Goyle were passed out on the bench with just a giggle escaping them once in awhile, I estimate that they would awaken out of their daze in another couple of hours, hungry enough to eat a dragon.

The first high is always the highest.

With a chocolate frog wriggling in my mouth as it melted and a school-book paper joint in one hand, I cracked open my herbology textbook and started reading with a pleasant buzz ringing in my head.

Obviously, the sweet lady didn't recognize the smell.

**3 Hours Later**

I stared at my hand as I tried to channel my 'ki' again. Being 13, brought me back to thinking about what I did when I was 13. Which led me to thinking of DragonBall Z, which I was a fanatic of the last time I was 13 a decade ago. Which led me to doing meditation to try and make a ki blast blow up the wall, always unsuccessfully.

This resulted in my sitting on the floor indian style with a bong between my heels, with my mind going to places only long-time stoners and acid fryers can ever reach.

'Breathe in'

'Breathe out'

'Feel the energy'

'Focus on forming the energy into a ball in between my hands'

'Blast that fuckin wall!'

"**Bang" **

Followed by the sound of shattering glass had me popping my eyes open and looking at where the compartment's window used to be.

I looked to my side where Crabbe was staring at me with a grin and squinted eyes. "Tha' was amazin', Draco!" He gushed.

I felt the difference when I started meditating and hadn't really considered it important when I'd actually felt an energy pool in me. You often feel a pool of energy inside of you when high. What was not normal is the effect of my saiyan meditation technique is having any effects at all.

I looked at my hand.

I looked to where the window used to be.

Back to my hand.

Maybe the mind altering effects of weed had some effects on magic...

I cracked a grin as I looked at Crabbe.

"Behold, the power of the great ganja." I said with a lavish gesture to the shattered train wall.

Maybe magic could be fun, even if it does ruin a good hot-box.

My 'servants' giggled.

**One Hour Later**  
I pointed a finger at the almost repaired wall.

Only the glass was missing.

"Regenerate glass" I grunted at the wall. Releasing my 'ki' from my 'pool' and into my finger as I spoke.

As only a stoner can, I watched in amazement as what looked like water bubbled out of the corners of the window and reverse-melted into a flat sheet of glass in the open window.

After the Weasley prefect had finished bitching at me for practicing magic on the train and taken ten points off the snake house, I had gotten into my white powder and demolished an 8-ball in an astounding half an hour, which gave quite the confidence boost.

Confidant enough that with another bowl, I stared pointing my finger and making stuff happen.

I sat back into the bench for the last hour of the 'trip' and relaxed.

"Margarita."

'Not bad for the first nine hours in this world'

BREAKFAST THE NEXT DAY

"You get enough to eat?" asked a female's voice in a disgusted tone.

I suppose Draco would have known who the green and silver trimmed vision of teenage jail-bait beauty was, or cared.

I didn't.

"Plenty, like you obviously have as well. Your cottage cheese thighs and saggy arm skin don't help hide your weight problem, nor does your overly large forehead and flat chest help your ugliness and immaturity problem." I said scathingly. I lied of course. She was absolutely gorgeous, and snooty, and as a Slytherin, rich.

As she was so pretty and rich, she had probably had very few cutting insults, much less ones aimed specifically to make teen girls cry. So she did what any teen girl would do after being publicly tongue lashed by an expert.

She jumped up from the table, in tears, slaps me across the face, and, runs from the great hall while bawling her eyes out.

I poked the bleeding cut in my mouth with my tongue.

'heal' I thought.

Chuckles sounded in an almost silent hall as I felt my cheek repair. I couldn't hold them back. The hilarity of the situation overcame me.

"I told her I'm not the father, she just had to wait until I showed her the test results to believe me" I said to the staring room over my shoulder. A loud laughing issued from most males and quite a few females in the great hall.

I have a wicked and sadistic sense of humor when high and uninhibited. She should have known better than to taunt me.

Oh, shit! I realized that I had just ruined this girl's reputation for a momentary funny.

I do not take shit easily on uppers.

Fear me on uppers!

I can't normally afford them regularly in the amounts I was inhaling them at right now regularly. In fact, only twice in my life have I had the opportunity to have a nice long coke binge in the amounts approaching overdose like this.

I feel a panic attack coming on.

Only one thing can reverse an approaching coke overdose with any real good benefits.

A TOKE WAS NEEDED!

I took a custom glass bowl that doubled as a mini-bong out of my extended-spaced pocket and lit in up. It looked like Gandalf's pipe from lord of the rings, made out of red and purple twisted glass. I took a nice long hit and held it in for a good minute before looking over my shoulder to exhale.

Right into Snape's red angry up face.

Dumbledore:

Trouble.

Thats what he was.

What he was born to be.

Trouble.

His father gave him trouble.

His grand-father gave him trouble.

His great-grand-father was a 5th year bully as a child that had attempted to torment him in his first year.

No, Albus Dumbledore did not find the Malfoys a pleasant line of nice people.

This one though was much different than the others.

He had an incredible stash of muggle sweets secreted away, all about his person. Albus's spectacles were enchanted in a similarly to his dear friend Mad-eye's seer's eye. It allowed him to survey most situations with a perspective that a wizard like himself perfectly.

He saw people in the nude with whatever was in their pockets or hidden on their body, clinging to their skin. Some sights in public were very pleasant, such as as to a muggle's football game.

Ahh! The Youth!

If any Slytherin developed a fondness of any muggle item, he or she was worth keeping the student around the other Slytherins at almost all costs. In the goal to show the young wayward students of the serpent's house any positive outlook upon muggles, sweets were a tremendous step forward for him.

For it to be this little Malfoy hell-raiser, one of the most influential of pure-bloods in the country, that was influencing his peers in such a sublime way was beautiful. A dream come true for him as soon as he walked in to his office.

An opportunity to change an entire generation of hateful witches and wizards was not an opportunity too good for him to pass up.

In came Donkey(a personal nickname) with a bright red face and a wonderfully crafted glass smoke-piece.

It looked a lot like a smoke-piece an ancestor of the Dumbledore family had left, along with his staff in their family's vault in the Russia's oldest Gringott's est.1230bc.

He must possess it!

It was gorgeous and sparkling.

The glass had masterfully crafted twists ands colours that were too unique to ignore.

Absolutely magical.

To school business first.

Draco:

I followed 'Professor' Snape into up the stairs into the headmaster's office. He was very insistent that I called him 'Professor' over other, better names like Ole Sport and Friskies. The 20 points and Saturday evening detention kind of insistent.

"For starters" he adds on as I mime and mock him behind his back as he leads us up the stairs to the headmaster's door.

"Oh, I can't wait to spend time with you" I reply in my best attempt at a female southern bell's accent.

As the red at the back of his neck, in my view, turned a brighter shade of pink, I estimate that his face was a good shade of purple.

What comes from his mouth sounds like "humfish mishell" as raps harder than necessary on the door.

"Come in" comes from the room.

Snape shoves me into the office with a shaking hand and slams the door behind him.

"Headmaster, he-" stared Snape, before the Headmaster interrupted him with a "One moment Severus. Would you like a lemon-drop? Or you mister Malfoy?"

"No, this-" started Snape once more, interrupted by me this time with a "Yes sir. Would you like a warhead? They are a delicious muggle candy, similar to lemon-drops."

"YOU BE SI-" Snape started again, only at me this time only to be silenced by a flick of the Headmaster's wand.

"That's no way to speak to students Severus no-matter what mischief they have gotten into. We have talked about this. We will talk of it again, after I am done speaking to young mister Malfoy here." Stated Dumbledore in a powerful voice, but, a small smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Of course I'll have a 'War-Neck'!" He continued, turning his attention to me.

I almost felt like a snake about to be milked for his venom, and I don't know why.

I also wonder why a squirrel jumped through the window and stole a plate of spaghetti sitting on Dumbledore's desk before running back to the window and back flipping out like a ninja.

'Where did the Italian food come from?' I thought to myself as I popped a lemon-drop into my mouth with one hand and passed a lemon warhead along to the Headmaster.

'Ignore the squirrel, like you always do.'


	2. Chapter 2

"Headmaster, I have Imagined this conversation for a long time." I said.

A lie.

I pushed what I 'felt' as magic into my eyes and focused on copying his literally twinkling eyes and concentrating on the message I wished to pass along to him in this conversation.

"Have you Mr. Malfoy? I would..." I interrupted him.

"Please let finish." I spoke in my American accent and saw him jump in his seat at the change in my demeanor that was too apparent to him.

Why try hiding a horribly stressful secret about future events and worry about people dying in a brutal civil war when you don't give a flying fuck?

"I want to start off by telling you that Voldemort's horcruxes are almost in all obtainable locations that I will explain how to locate." He jumped again and started to to speak.

"Shut your fucking mouth, I'm not done!" I interrupted again.

"I would like to continue by telling you that Draco Malfoy is dead. My name is Richard Byrd and I am a Dalek Khaleesi. Otherwise known to you as GOD. I am sanctioned by the League of Shadows and empowered by the Nestine Proclamation." I spoke the lie on the fly.

As I leaned back into the plush armchair, I reloaded my bowl by heart. Watching as his face went from the serious angry expression gave way to the shocked confused look of a deer in the headlights was a pleasure.

The classical sound of the water-pipe's bubbles filled the opulent office.

"I will be leaving this school in a few minutes" I continued in between coughs.

The opportunity was used to immobilize the headmaster while he was staring at me on bafflement.

"I am not much of a monologist headmaster, so I'll make this short. I am very entertained by your idiotic society and don't want to see it burned to ashes before I get a blowtorch big enough to do it myself. So, I leave you with this list and bid you adieu." I set a list of locations and objects on his desk. The last object on the list was Harry Potter's scar.

-

I left the headmaster with a memorable scene. Magic was coming easier with mental 'elasticity'.

"One to Enterprise, energize." I left the office with white sparkles and a typical sound as I 'apperated' into the kitchens.

"Nippy! You have my brownies?" I called into the mass of gyrating little weirdos doing their usual creepy elf shit.

"Oh yes young master! Nippy has em' righ ere!" i collected the tray and was back in my dorm-room in seconds.

One tray of brownies went into my trunk before it shrunk.

I put it in my inner-robe pocket next to my sack and backup-emergency one-hitter.

A brownie in one hand and a margarita in the other is how I strolled out of Hogwart's gate.

Right into trouble.

I am a curious person be nature and high on my own god-like power.

I realize this and really don't care.

What is the point of long term planning and plotting when you can warp reality?

Free reign with these powers in a world so similar to my own?

My first stop is a bookstore.

History section.

Ugh.

The usual lies in my world is present here as in my own.

Vast industrial-military complex.

Skull and Bones, Free-masonry and Disney all exist.

Year is 1994.

Yay!

How exciting!

-

My next stop was experimenting with the limits of the point-me spell via a vague drunken image.

"Point me, brothel." led me on an adventure that *Redacted in interest of National Security*

Moving along at gunpoint-

-

New York City, January, 6, 1995. Brownstone of Wilhelm Hess.

"This is the police! Open up!" Was the demand shouted at the door.

A loud bang rang through the house as the poor brass hinges gave it up to the ghost.

A scared old man sat in his armchair before the television.

He probably expected the fine upstanding gentlemen of the NYPD to come charging though the breech of his privacy. The pale blond teenager that stepped over the thresh-hold of his home was very unlikely to be one.

"Do you know who I am?" the old man shouted, rising from his chair in indignation.

He was must likely going to continue but I was uninterested.

"A fucking Nazi." I muttered as the petrification charm kicked in and the frail old racist tipped over sideways.

He looked at me through eyes clouded in confusion and fear.

"You are about to die." I informed him with a whisper.

His eyes turned into a truly terrified veneer of horror and fear.

I love that look on Nazis.

My eyes bore into his own and before his panicking old heart gave out, I knew what he knew.

Fucking SS scum.


	3. School Interlude

January 2nd, 1996 Palace of Beauxbatons, Somewhere unplottable in the Pyrenees, Southern France.

I nursed my aching, hungover head and listened absently to the ancient looking professor speak in French about the wonders of alchemy to the 'University Level' Graduate students of Beauxbatons Academy which was on the lover levels of the palace.

It was my first day, and I couldn't for the life of me pay attention to the boring old man. Why I wanted to learn alchemy was simple. Never-ending gold and eternal life.

The Language Lozenges sold in Diagon Ally are not really very expensive. French cost three Galleons, roughly $200 in US Dollars. Cheaper than Rosetta Stone for sure.

I was hitting a dead end in my search for extraterrestrials living in UFOs parked in caves in the arctic. All I had done was get the Yetis addicted to pot and had a bad-ass New-years party where I found this one double jointed female Yeti that I...

\- Redacted in interest of National Security.-

I just couldn't stop staring at the female blond in the front row. The beautiful view of the back of her head was just... _Fucking Veela._

I focused on the droning voice of the professor and listened for the first time.

"Finally we must examine every substance we find. Note this muggle fuel that is almost pure Phlagiston. We will find that by burning it we release the Phlagiston in." I interrupted at that point.

"Excuse me professor." I stood up.

He looked up the rows of students with a scowl and spotted me quickly. "I usually don't allow student to ask questions in the middle of my lectures, but, since this is the first day I will make an exception. Your name mister?"

"Healer." I said quickly.

His eyes squinted up the auditorium at me. "Healer who?"

"Exactly." I continued with my question. "Are you playing a prank on us with talking about that extremely antique and idiotic idea of Phlagistons right?"

The old man got red in the face. He drew his wand and pointed it up at me.

"You get out of my classroom. I won't have my grandfathers work insulted like that. Nor will I have that kind of back-talk in my class-room." He shouted up at me.

I really don't like to be yelled at. My emergency one hitter was already loaded. I put it in my mouth and lit it wandlessly, as always.

I exhaled and made my way down the classrooms steps. I winked at the Veela as I passed. She turned her nose up and turned away._ Fucking French Veela._

"I already paid to audit this class bucko." I walked up to the old man and poked him in the chest.

"You want me gone. Make me. You are a fucking idiot anyway. You act like you have never heard of Lavoisier. Phlangistons my hairy ass. They don't fucking exist. You are more likely to fund a crumple horned snorcack up your mom's dick head, you rancid crock-pot." I may have overdone it a little, as some spells or other started bouncing off me and around the room.

I slapped the stick out of his hand and knocked his ass out with a right hook to the chin.

I looked around the wide eyed class-room.

"I don't know what you guys are used to being taught, but this guy is a fucking idiot."

I conjured a chemistry textbook in front of every student, instantly.

"Phlangistons got dis-proven somewhere near three centuries ago, they are..." I trailed off as I got the same bored looks I was giving the old guy before.

I snapped my fingers and the chemistry books disappeared.

"You know what, fuck this shit. You all deserve Voldemort." I flipped the bird to the chorus of exaggerated French gasps and shrieks as I said the naughty word.

"I'm going to get more of that tight Yeti poon-ta"-Redacted in interest of National Security-

And I apperated away.


	4. Chapter 3

I stayed high for four years straight.

The Arctic ice caverns are a beautiful place to live. It always reminded me of Superman's Fortress of Solitude. I went to 'work' every day and came home to my woman every night. Days could last a month. My 'work' was fun while it lasted.

Killing Nazis and chasing UFOs can only entertain you for so long. Even with occasional trip to the Arctic to visit my furry girlfriend and use her flexibility, and sharp fangs to- Redacted in interest of National Security -, I was still bored.

The "Point Me Former SS Officer" was a fantastic idea. I used it to teleport around the world on hunting expeditions. I blew them up. Strangled them with their own intestines. Transfigured one into hypothetical neutrinos.( I was really, really stoned) Transfigured another into a poodle bitch in heat and threw 'her' into a junkyard full of pit-bulls. Endless fun. Endless good done for humanity. Until it ended.

It started with having to travel further and further away to get some quality fun time. Then the spell stopped working altogether. I had run out of Nazis. Depression set in. Even Marla, my Yeti girlfriend's grunts and growls of endearment couldn't cheer me up. Even when she got on her knees and stared to-Redacted in interest of National Security- until I couldn't get up anymore. Even that didn't lift the depression.

My "Point Me UFO" kept leading me to boring US military bases. Who would have thought UFOs were made in China, shipped to the US in pieces, and assembled by private companies? It was a big let-down.

Fucking ET hype!

So, I went looking for new entertainment in Los Angeles, California.

-000-

Raves were just catching-on with what would be known in the 2000's as the 'Candy-kid Scene.' That meaning that they took MDMA and listened to electronic dance music as loud as the speakers could blast. I was in the middle of hundreds of drunken and high teens. The bass was strong enough to make my body vibrate.

I was shuffling(a rave dance) my ass off in tune with the strobe lights when I saw a sexy brunette in a slinky red dress that grabbed my attention with a 'come hither' smile. I shuffled her way in the flashing lights. She grabbed me by my cheeks and pulled me into a kiss. I was swapping spit with her for I don't know how long. Marla would smell the human on me later and I'd catch hell. At the moment though, I didn't give a damn.

Time floated away. All I felt was the waves of pleasure as the bass's beat took all my depression away. Her lips were sweet like cotton candy. She smelled like dust after rain. I could feel chilly goosebumps and hot sweaty skin at the same time. She was a goddess, and at that moment, she was mine. We melded our souls together.

Then who I assumed was the sexy brunettes boyfriend broke a bottle on the back of my head, pushed me to the floor and started kicking the shit out of me. I was totally wasted, not in my right mind, with a cracked skull. The last thing I saw was a huge black boot heading towards my face.

-000-

"Young Master needs to wake up," a high-pitched voice woke me.

Upon opening my eyes, I felt like throwing up. There was a polished silver ceiling above me, showing me a familiar image. A little blond kid lying in a bed, looking back at me. "I just died again," I whispered, while staring at my reflection.

"Son of a bitch!" I couldn't resist yelling.

"Young Master must not use such language on his first day of school." Nippy started to pull down the sheets. As my shrunken and skinny little kids body came into view, the ramification hit me.

"Marla!" I nearly burst into tears. The love of my life wouldn't know me. I'd have to woo her all over again. I felt tears sting the corner of my eyes.

Do you know how much effort it takes to get a girl like Marla's attention? I'd have to start earning her trust(and break it a few times) all over again. "Whats wrong young master?" The elf implored in her squeaky little voice, "what can Nippy do to help?"

"Arggg!" I screamed in frustration. All that effort... wasted. I kicked the nearest piece of furniture over. It looked like an expensive vase on top of a little table. It shattered on the floor with a loud crash. I left the room and looked around the hallway.

Strangely... I felt a little better. Looking around the hallway showed many expensive looking things. It looked more like a museum then a house. I snagged a fancy broom that was mounted on the wall and gave a crystal chandelier 'What For!' I felt quite a bit better.

A glass case full of shiny baubles was about to meet its end when the broom jerked out of my hands.

"Draco! What are you doing!?" The screech of a pissed off woman was clear as crystal. Turning around showed a fuming woman with half blond and half black hair. She wore an emerald and shiny fabric robe. I'm not fashion expert, but, I bet it was expensive.

For the life of me, I couldn't remember her name. "Well?" She asked.

I finally remembered her name.

"Listen Narcissus, I'm not your son. I'm a twenty-seven year old American that just died and woke up in this place. I had a bit of a temper tantrum and destroyed some shit. I swear I'll pay for it!"

Some red light came out of nowhere and nailed me in the face.

-000-

I was gagged and in ropes when the 'indecisive hair lady' and 'long haired man' levitated me into the fireplace. I tried to convince the stubborn bastards but they just thought I was cursed, or possessed. I guess possession might actually be a pretty accurate decision.

"St. Munogo's" The dude (whose name I also couldn't remember.) called. After a nauseating trip through a swirling fiery vortex, I couldn't help but wonder if a Christian wizard invented the floo. Hopefully, the magical healers could make this bullshit reincarnation cycle would end soon.

"My son has been possessed!" Unlucky Luciano shouted over the noise of the packed hospital entrance hall. Though I was tied and gagged, I could still gawk at the ridiculous wizarding illnesses.

One man was continually breathing fire like a dragon. Another person had four heads. A little girl was hot pink and covered in glitter. A person with little sardines dripping from his nose. A giant man holding his detached leg and laughing at a joke told to him by a humanoid squirrel.

"Uck oo" I cursed at Lucy through the gag, as he floated me passed a particularly foul smelling gentleman covered head to toe in pustules oozing a nasty purple fluid.

"Mister Malfoy, Right this way please." A weasel looking man with a hunched back, crooked teeth, and a pinched face led my 'parents. into an examination room. "Healer Abbot will be right with you." He assured as he backed out of the door in a hurry.

My sexy new 'mother' was giving the dreaded yet lady-like death-glare to everything and everyone, like she wanted to burn them to cinders. "Isn't Abbot that mudblood from Hufflepuff?" she hissed the sentence with a grimace like it pained her to speak it.

"Would you rather he stay possessed?" Lemming asked his wife in a voice as cold as Marla's tongue. He glanced over at me. I flipped him the bird. He looked back at his wife and nodded his head in my direction. "One of my enemies must have done this to embarrass me." Glaring at me, he added, "I wiil not have the Malfoy name dragged through the mud!"

Like you have a choice, Lucy.


	5. Chapter 5

I hate wands. Theres something truly about them that repulsed me. Bits of former living things encased in wood, and capable of manipulating souls with a flick and a few words. Teenagers able to bend physics over and give it a dry buggering. Wands also seems capable of erasing all common sense from their wielders, the second they touch one.

Myself included.

In accordance with my lack of common sense, I'd done a great many experiments with magic. After many bitter disappointments in my attempts to find extraterrestrial life on earth, I decided to try and travel to them.

Experiment #1: Portkey space travel.

Portkeys do not appear to be capable of penetrating a Faraday cage was my first discovery. With a vague idea of the basics of physics, I sent a timed portkey clock to the moon. When it came back, it was 2.12 seconds behind the synchronized wristwatch. I was very disappointed with the confirmation of Einstein's theory of relativity. The portkey traveled at the speed of light or somewhere near it. It would be far too fast to navigate in space with. Time nearly stops for atoms traveling at the speed of light.

Outcome: Portkey space travel is out. I would not age while using it for galactic travel, but the universe around me would age at a greatly accelerated rate. There would be no way to perceive my location or destination when millions of relative years pass for every second I experienced. Ability to dodge theoretical 'dark energy' or theoretical 'dark matter' would be greatly impaired. Outcome can change after I find a way to tell relativity to go fuck itself.

Experiment #2: Apperation space travel.

I began with observing my apperations using easily stolen slow motion and high definition cameras. At 1000 frames per second, you can see on average four frames at the moment of apperation. It appears that my body collapses into itself in an inwards spiral. My next step was apperating with large objects. It appears that the center of mass, relative to weight, between myself and large objects collapse in a spiraling motion before disappearing. My next test involved apperating with a 8x12 foot, two foot thick, solid lead Faraday cage, and clock to the moon and back. There was no time difference between the clock left on Earth and the synchronized clock inside the lead box. I could barely escape from the cube before I experienced the symptoms similar to heat-stroke. I assume it is magical exhaustion, as I had no experience with magical medicine.

Outcome: Apperation is also out. Apperation appears to be the possible formation of an event horizon of an Einstein-Rosenberg bridge. The spiraling motion suggests that even magical transportation follows the laws of relativity... kinda. It appears that the longer the distance, the more energy the transportation takes. 300,000,000 kilometers and back appears to be my limit. Outcome can change after I find a way to to tell magical exhaustion to go fuck itself.

And then the LSD wore off...

-000-

The healer poked and prodded me with his wand as muffled insults spewed from my mouth. I was having fun. If the healer can get me out of Draco's head, I win. If the healer can't, I still win. I don't know what I'd do if I have to wake up on Draco Malfoy's first day of school again. It won't be pleasant for anyone to say the least.

The silencing charm only works on me, when I let it. As long as I'm awake and sober enough to think relatively clearly. If I smoked and eighth of sugar-leaf, I was still fit to use magic... and drive.

If I drank three forties, smoked an eighth, parachuted two ex-ohs, and a sniffed a few dozen bumps of white girl... I still drove. If a bit dangerously. Magic was the same.

After four years of wandlessly warping reality, I knew my fare share of magic tricks.

A few minutes under my 'mothers' tender glare, the healer started sweating. A few more, and he was shaking in his ugly little leather shoes. "I detect one spell in his blood that I can't seem to remove."

"What kind of spell!?" Narcissa grabbed the healer by the robes and shouted in his face.

"F...fer... fertility based." The frightened healer stuttered out. A big dick spell? I laughed through the gag. "He will only be able to have one-" I stopped laughing.

"That curse runs in the bloodline." Lucius interrupted. "Keep searching."

The ropes binding me vanished with a crack. I have a pretty short temper when my junk is involved. It may not really be 'my' junk, but... It was my junk! I spit out the cloth gag. Lucy began to pull his wand. The healer jerked out of the mega milf's death grip and shrieked like a little girl.

A snap of my fingers made all the difference in the world. The examination room was silenced as the door melted into the wall. Sabrina the middle-aged bitch found herself ball-gagged and hogtied in a French maids' outfit. The healer gained a gimp mask and a sturdy set of iron shackles. Lucy though... got special treatment.

Armless, legless, and without larynx or eyelids, Lucy was in the form I favored for Nazi interrogation. The healer started to squeal through the gimp mask before I silenced him and Narcissa. I stepped over to Lucy and popped a squat on his heaving chest. Hissing and gasping sounds escaped his quietly screaming face.

Resting my hands on his temples, I gazed into his eyes. I 'imagined' myself punching a hole into his mind. I then imagined a straw in my mouth, sucking in his secrets. I felt ill as a stream of memories flashed before my eyes.

Lucy with a little muggle-born girl...

Lucy with a little muggle boy...

Lucy with a geriatric muggle...

A death-eater initiation ceremony...

A curse in the Malfoy bloodline to only be able to father one child...

My temper passed all realms of reason as my rage was amplified by my sobriety. "Die you long-haired knock-off Nazi rapist!"

I imaged the left and right sides of his brains colliding at the speed of light. I realized as soon as I did it, the mistake I had made. As the first two atomic nucleus's touched something for the first time since a previous supernova, the UK burned with nuclear fire.

-000-

"Young master must wake up-" "Argh!" I yelled as I slapped the house-elf across the face. He or she wailed loudly as 'it' fell off the bed and flopped to the floor.

"Does this shit ever end!" I screamed to the ceiling.

"Of course it does," a females voice said from the foot of the bed.

Liz Hurley stood at the foot of my bed. Silky brunette hair flowed down graceful shoulders. A large serpent curled around her shoulders. The tiny shimmering red bikini looked a few sizes too small. I don't know if I should shit myself or celebrate.

"Subtle," was the first thing that came to mind.

"No need to play a guessing game on just who is pulling your strings." The supermodel smiled in a way that was more sinister than friendly.

"uh..." I could think of nothing to say to this... entity. In lieu of words, I conjured a lit joint and took a long toke. "So- cough cough- how exactly did you become my string-puller?"

The Morning Star raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, stupid question. So... uh... What can I do for you oh Shining One?"

"No more joints for you, you rude little shit." She/He/It snapped it's fingers in a very familiar fashion. My joint vanished with a crack. I found myself on my back with one of 'not Liz Hurleys' ruby studded heels digging into my throat.

"Whatever you like," I managed to wheeze out through my pinched windpipe. Her heel let off on the painful pressure. I broke into a hacking cough as my lungs drew in sulphuric scented air.

"I'm in need of entertainment," The Lord of Pride put it's hands on it's hips and bent at the waist to peer down into my frightened eyes. The little red strip of shiny fabric hiding The Beast's nipples from view did nothing to conceal the jiggling busty mammary glands. "And you will provide it."

My brain was running at the speed of a million dirty thoughts a second.

The serpent uncoiled from her shoulders and slid down between her cleavage. A sharp shiny heel struck me in the side of the head, "Pay Attention!" The serpent bit me in the side of the neck.

"Jesus Christ!" I squealed as the serpent bit down.

No ogling Satan ever again!

"When has he ever helped you? I don't think he'll start now." The Light Bringer crossed her arms and it pushed her her bust up and out.

The serpent shook it's head like a dog with a bone.

"I'm listening! I'm Listening!"

-000-

Hogwarts Express, September, 1st, 1993

I sat in the last compartment on the train, sipping a margarita and nursing my aching head. Crabbe and Goyle sat opposite of me, munching on some truly freaky candy. Who the hell came up with cockroach clusters? "So guys," I got their momentary attention, speaking for the first time since the Son of the Dawn dropped the bomb on me.

"I need a favor."

"Are you alright? Why do you sound so funny, Draco?" Vinny the crab inquired.

"Don't worry about that, I need you to do something." I waved away the chubby little boy's concerns.

"Anything" Goyle answered for them both.

"Thanks, boys." They slumped over, leaning on each-other as their eyes closed shut.

As my mind reached out to begin warping the minds of the boys, only one thought crossed my mind. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke.

I attempted to conjure a loaded bong, but it didn't work.

Damn Lucifer the extortionist.


End file.
